


Of a Different Kind

by Terminallydepraved



Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: Fingering, M/M, Riding, Rough Sex, Shower Sex, assassinations, death mention, escort AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-22
Updated: 2015-08-22
Packaged: 2018-04-16 14:22:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4628547
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Terminallydepraved/pseuds/Terminallydepraved
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Not every job can be simple. Occasionally, a helping hand is needed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of a Different Kind

**Author's Note:**

> this was written on a whim as a filler before i get myself pumped for the next silvahisokuro. please enjoy guys~

It was far too conspicuous to check the time again. Silva grit his teeth and tried to look like he was enjoying himself, sipping at the chilled champagne he had been handed. The hit had already been planned out and to recalculate this late would severely limit the chances of success. He gave in to the itching in his fingers and glanced at his watch. There was no way he was ever letting Illumi talk him into using this escort again.

Another five minutes passed and Silva had already drained the flute of alcohol in his attempt to blend with the socialites milling about. His target was somewhere near the open bar, no doubt harassing the bartender like the womanizer he had been told the man was. The escort was now a resounding fifteen minutes late and he already regretted letting Illumi orchestrate the whole thing. Illumi had assured him that this one was a professional, a grade beyond anything he could have ever thought possible in a simple escort. Punctuality was apparently not included in the bundle.

Silva was just about to call the hit off until something else could be arranged when he felt arms envelope him from behind. He went tense, his hands coming to the arms around his waist with bruising strength, before a quiet voice issued in his ear.

“I wouldn’t make a scene dear, the airheads are watching.”

He could practically hear the grin against his ear but he relaxed, let the man swing around him as if he was dancing to the quiet chamber music playing beneath the chatter.

“You are late,” Silva ground, taking in the man before him. He was small, dainty and petite in a way that belied the strength he had felt in those arms. The well-pressed suit accentuated his small frame and drew the eye.

The dark eyes were laughing when Silva pulled him closer, tucking him under his arm like the arm candy he was meant to be. “Traffic is a mess, darling. Blame the driver, not me.” The excuse was light and more than likely a lie, but there wasn’t much Silva could do about it.

What he could though was drag the escort around, begin the plan, and try to get back on schedule. “I can only hope that Illumi gave you instruction on how you are to behave this evening?” Silva asked, more of a statement of fact than an actual question. There wasn’t time to spell out the course of events, not with everything already so constrained. It would be difficult enough as it was without taking another twenty minutes to coach the young man through his role.

“Well of course. I am a professional, Silva. Can I call you Silva?” The man was grinning, the action as winsome as could be though to Silva it appeared cheeky. His eyes were drawn to his every expression, his lips glossy and eye-catching in the bright light of the ballroom. “I’m a big fan of pet names if those are more to your tastes though. Really sells the bit.”

Silva grit his teeth and felt the regret wash over him like a wave, taking solace in the fact that he would at least be able to proceed without further delay. “You may address me however the situation requires. I will be leaving the social aspect of this evening up to you and Illumi assured me that you can be trusted to do that.” They moved through the crowd and towards the bar where the target was still seated, nursing a bourbon and a rejection no doubt.

Their progress was stopped, and quite abruptly, when the escort pulled them sharply to the left and towards a group of wealthy donators. Silva glared down at him but found himself in the middle of the throng before he could berate him. All eyes turned to them and Silva prayed that Illumi hadn’t been mistaken when he said that this escort was “discreet and capable.”

“My, my, you are looking absolutely ravishing Patricia,” the escort cooed, leaning forward to kiss a woman’s cheeks. “I saw you shining from across the room and just had to come over to be dazzled by your radiance once again.” Her rouge was outshone by her blush and Silva watched the group of women melt under the man’s niceties.

The woman, Patricia evidently, preened with the attention and patted his cheek with a hand heavy with rings. “Oh Chrollo, my darling! It’s been so long! You must tell me how you’ve been,” she twittered, letting her hand rest against the breast of his jacket. “And goodness me, you absolutely must tell me who this is.” She turned her eyes to Silva and took him in, sharing an appraising look with the grinning man.

Chrollo, the escort’s name apparently, clung to his arm tighter and rubbed his cheek against his shoulder. “Oh him? He’s just my flavor of the week. He’s dreadfully miserable at these sorts of things and I figured you and your delightful friends might cheer him up.” His voice was sugar sweet and charming enough that the innuendo was greedily eaten up by the fawning ladies.

Silva grit his teeth but managed to smile anyway. It wasn’t a bad lie at all, sating the women without giving them any information, but the insinuations were grating. And this little diversion, though unplanned, brought them within earshot of the target without attracting his attention. He almost wished it had been him to suggest this method.

Sympathetic eyes turned to him and Silva found himself bombarded with hands patting him, commiserations and consolations hiding their fondling. He looked down at Chrollo, nudged him a bit.

Instead of assistance, he got a very eager kiss.

The women practically shrieked, cooing and fanning themselves at the display. Silva was livid but couldn’t justify breaking his cover just to teach the escort the meaning of professional space. When he found he could pull away, he did, ignoring the dazed look in Chrollo’s infinitely deep eyes.

“I think I made him shy, the poor thing,” Chrollo breathed, stroking Silva’s cheek. “Do forgive us ladies, I think he could do with a drink before he simply melts away from embarrassment.” He was the perfect balance of amused and regretful that there was no hassle in them pulling away.

Silva restrained himself until they were well away from the group before rounding on Chrollo, reeling him in by the arm he still had entangled in his own. “What was that?” he hissed, keeping their faces together and expression light in order to make it seem that they were merely having an intimate discussion and not a quarrel.

Chrollo laughed against his ear and stroked up and down his arms, feeling the muscle hidden beneath his suit. “Business,” he murmured, his smile teasingly innocent. “Or did you miss the sight of your target’s body guards crashing the party and checking IDs?” At that he glanced to the left behind them, where noticeably armed men were working through the party guests. Silva took it in and realized the prudence of the display. Public displays of affection always had a way of diverting attention.

There wasn’t time to formulate a response as the guards turned their attention towards them and their side of the ballroom. Silva quickly took in their location, the distance to the nearest exits and side rooms, but it was Chrollo who took the initiative to pick a direction and begin dragging. There was some token resistance but Silva was beginning to trust Chrollo’s judgment now that he had proven himself more than just a pretty face.

They lost themselves within the crowd and Chrollo led them towards a side room off of the main rotunda. He moved sinuously through the milling people, always darting to a side when he caught sight of a bodyguard approaching to closely. Silva was impressed with the dexterity in which he moved, at how he seemed to know everyone by name and could put them to gain further distance with only a few words and a well-placed smile. It was a different kind of dangerous that he was only just beginning to appreciate for the damage it could do. Chrollo was in his element and this was most certainly his hunting ground.

When they finally made it to their target, Silva was unceremoniously pushed towards the door. Chrollo, though stronger than he looked, couldn’t budge him and Silva grasped his hands in his own, holding them off his chest.

“What are you doing? I need to find my target, not hide,” he said, annoyed.

Chrollo frowned and masked their awkward position by leaning into him, tilting his head up as if to kiss him again. “I’m going to find your target and you’re going to wait in there, seeing as you don’t have a valid ID for this party,” he whispered against Silva’s lips as another trio of guards stomped by, completely ignoring them, “while I do. I know his type, I can get him alone for you. Your other plan is shot now anyways. This is your best bet.”

Silva played along and moved his hands to make it look more like an embrace. “I don’t trust you.” He spoke against Chrollo’s lips and hated how he could feel him smile.

“Then trust what you paid me. I’m a professional, Silva. I won’t let this sort of hiccup ruin my record.”

It wasn’t very reassuring but Illumi’s cool voice echoed in his head, telling him how good Chrollo was at what he did. Silva sighed and didn’t resist when warm lips pressed firmly against his own. The gesture was enough of an answer and Silva let himself be maneuvered through the door, trusting the grinning escort to orchestrate the positions of the hit blind.

“Wait for my call. You do know which room he’s in right? I’ll have him there, ready for you,” Chrollo assured, closing the door behind him with a blown kiss and a wink. Silva glared and put up with it, resisting the urge to break that delicate hand.

He settled in for a wait and tried not to think about the unprofessionalism involved with allowing an escort to set up the finer details of an assassination. There was some part of him that appreciated Chrollo’s attention to detail, his ability to work a crowd with only his smile and a few charismatic gestures. It had benefited him more than once already this evening, and he couldn’t deny the ease it brought the situation.

His mood had almost turned to begrudging respect when the phone call came, not even twenty minutes later. There was disbelief on his face at the quick response and he answered with a grunt.

“He’s in the shower right now. You’ve got about ten minutes before I’m forced to charge you for extra services I don’t typically allow.”

Silva gave another affirmative grunt and ended the call, opening the door and slipping out as silently and unobtrusively as he could. No heads turned towards him, no attention was garnered from his progression and he made it to the hotel section of the event hall without any surprises. The room he wanted was near the top and he took the stairs, rushing up them within seconds.

He didn’t waste time with undue subtlety, only pressing his ear to the door before opening the door that Chrollo had wedged open with a well-placed credit card. The room was very spacious and he had to turn a corner before the main area was visible. The sounds of a shower running were still strong and he took it as a sign that he had plenty of time to work.

The first thing he noticed upon turning the corner was Chrollo lounging on the enormous bed with his shirt open and pants undone. He was a mess of marks, his hair wild and eyes still a bit hazy. There was a reddish sheen smeared across his lips and as he got closer, Silva realized with a swallow that it was some sort of makeup, lip gloss perhaps. Chrollo looked as if he had been half-way to well-fucked and Silva couldn’t find it in him to think it wasn’t a good look for him.

Chrollo smirked widely, as if he knew what Silva had been thinking as he took in the room. With a nod of his head, he indicated the target’s location and set to gathering his clothing back into order. Silva tore his eyes away from the sight of him fixing his zipper, bending over to pick up his cast off jacket. The shower stopped and he readied himself by the bathroom door for the mark to exit. It would be quick. No fuss, no scream.

The mark exited naked, his eyes focused solely on the sight of Chrollo across the room. Something sweltering like jealousy or frustration cut through his veins and Silva struck, hard. An arc of blood splattered outwards, coating his hand and Chrollo as the headless body fell heavily to the plush carpet. It was messy but so had the entire night, so Silva didn’t ruminate on it.

“I’m charging you extra for the suit. And the marks on me,” Chrollo called out from across the room, wiping at the blood on his cheek. His voice broke Silva from his thoughts and it was enough to get him moving. “You’re lucky he was a good kisser else I’d be charging you for the groping I got.”

The idea of the still-bleeding garbage touching Chrollo sent Silva on edge and he managed a grunt, pulling Chrollo along behind him. “We need to go somewhere they won’t be searching,” he grit, leading them from the room.

Chrollo let himself be dragged, though he did steer them down the hall instead of back towards the stairs. “Then follow me. I’ve got a room where we can go and get cleaned up.” Pounding footsteps sounded from the nearby stairway and Silva didn’t take more convincing.

The room in question was down another hallway but still relatively close to the mark’s. Chrollo pulled out a key card and opened the door, letting Silva shuffle him bodily over the threshold.

“Why do you have this room?” Silva asked after shutting the door and locking it. He could hear the men running through the hallways.

Tossing his keys and wallet onto the table, Chrollo threw down his suit jacket and sat down on the bed to take off his shoes. “You must not be very familiar with the escort business,” he began with a laugh, toeing off his socks. “I always keep my options open if the client has special requests. And if I like them of course. You should be honored. Not many clients ever see my room.”

There was a flirtatious edge to his smile and Silva couldn’t tear himself from the smear of makeup still mussing his lips. “Is Chrollo your real name?” Silva asked as he watched him unbutton his shirt from across the room. There was no urgency in his movements, no flourish or attempt to entice but the heat was still there, smoldering as it waited for an updraft. It was impossible to look away.

Chrollo hummed, slid off the shirt and began on his belt. “It is,” he replied, stripping down to only a pair of tight boxer briefs. His every move came off as an invitation while his words played like dismissal. There was still blood flecked across his face and Silva’s eyes were drawn to it. “I’m going to take a shower. Feel free to join me if you’re not too busy asking pointless questions. I won’t even charge you extra for it.”

And with that he disappeared into the en suite bathroom, the door closing but the lock never clicking into use. Silva grit his teeth at the presumptuousness of it all, at the bratty, entitled smile still antagonizing him behind his eyelids. He could hear the pounding of water start up. Blood dripped from his shirt cuffs and stained the door handle, his body reacting to the summons. The entire evening he had been hanging on the edge of Chrollo’s personality, drinking in his easy grace and charm like every single party-goer they had fooled. It was past time for a taste of sincerity from the lying brat.

Steam greeted him as he opened the door, closing it quickly as Chrollo objected loudly to the cold air flooding inside the room. It was a large bathroom, all Italian tile and marble basins. Far more opulent than Chrollo deserved, but he couldn’t help admit to the decadence suiting the figure he could just see through the frosted shower glass.

The tiny black boxer briefs had been thrown carelessly into the sink and Silva was met with the thought that there was hardly anything separating them now, wouldn’t be if he just slipped off his own bloody clothes and stepped into the warm, welcoming shower. It consumed him, the steam making his skin hot and breath shaky. Silk and cotton fell to the tile below and Silva lingered at the edge of the shower, didn’t resist when a slender hand reached out to pull him into the stream.

Chrollo’s lips were wet when they pressed against his own, the water pounding hot and blessedly strong against his back. Despite the water and steam, he could still taste the cherries painted across his lips, glossing them in the bright light. Blood trickled off him, swirling down the drain, but there was nothing but the feeling of skin and that damned smile registering in his mind.

It took no effort to lift the young man up, wrapping his legs around his waist as he pressed him into the slick tiled wall. Chrollo smiled wider, his eyes victorious and knowing. The expression grated against Silva’s nerves and he pressed him in harder, set to forcing the smile from his face with his bruising kisses.

When they broke apart to breathe, Chrollo saw fit to laugh. “You never fail to surprise me, Silva,” he chuckled breathlessly, tilting his chin to give better access to the explorative mouth nipping at his neck. “I almost thought you were going to leave me all alone. Make me wash all this blood off by myself.” He punctuated each sentence with a moan, grinding his hard cock into an even harder abdomen.

Silva hissed as the movements jostled him against the pert ass in his hands. “I still might, don’t get comfortable.” His fingers began to tease at Chrollo’s ass, sending him into fits. The wall supported them as he dipped his finger inside, sent the man writhing enough to nearly unbalance them both. Every noise pouring out of Chrollo’s mouth felt hardwired to his cock, urging him to hold tighter, dig deeper. Again, he found himself helpless to the whims of the dark eyes below him despite every aspect of his being despising the childish expectation heavy behind the lashes.

In his arms, Chrollo was weightless, even as Silva carried him from the shower and back into the room. The water cooled quickly on their skin and Chrollo pulled Silva closer, hungry for his warmth. Silva couldn’t keep himself from his mouth, his tongue already craving the taste of cherries and Chrollo. They fell against the nearest wall.

Supporting Chrollo with his legs tossed over his arms, Silva pressed his fingers to cherry-soaked lips and let him lick, bite, and suck. It was heady, the skillful way Chrollo wrapped his tongue around the fingers. He was energetic, more than eager to please and Silva could appreciate his attention to detail. It was with some effort that he pulled them from his mouth and dipped them down to tease at his entrance.

The moment he began to press inside, Chrollo threw his head back to moan. He was burning and tight and Silva couldn’t resist the urge to push it deep, make him cry out again and again. There was nothing Chrollo could do to get leverage, to make him stop teasing, and it sent him writhing against the wall. A stray kick knocked over a nearby shelf and sent it crashing to the floor. Chrollo moved his hands from around his neck and began clawing into his shoulders, biting down when the pace didn’t increase.

Silva drank in the pain and the cries but gave in to the pleas. He felt at the tightness and called it done enough. “We need lube,” he grunted, biting at the earrings dangling from Chrollo’s ears. His reply came in the form of gasps, the word ‘nightstand’ only just understandable. It was enough though for Silva to move them to the bed.

Chrollo went down with a bounce and barely let Silva go far enough to reach into the bedside stand. He seemed to love Silva’s size, encouraging him to pin him to the mattress and keep him down. His hands took in every inch of skin they could as Silva coated his cock in the lube, hissing at the mild relief his touch brought.

When he began pressing into Chrollo, he had to physically hold the man down to keep him from impaling himself too quickly. Chrollo whined, fought the hands holding him in place. He was insatiable and it didn’t take long for Silva to give in to the urge fueling them both.

The pace began rhythmic and smooth but quickly devolved into heated thrusting. Chrollo cried out with every thrust, his nails digging angry lines into Silva skin. His eyes were darker than ever, his long lashes fluttering like the wings of moths. It was breathtaking and it was with a practiced motion that Silva rolled them, letting Chrollo straddle his hips. Like this, he could see everything, take in every little expression on Chrollo’s face.

Grinning at the new perspective, Chrollo rolled his hips experimentally. He bent down to kiss Silva, feeding him the taste of cherries still lingering stubbornly to his lips. “Let me have some fun?” he asked against Silva’s mouth, tangling his fingers in silver hair. Silva could only nod his head and groan, letting Chrollo pull off long enough to straddle him the other way.

Instead of his begging mouth and dark eyes, Silva was treated to the shaking sight of Chrollo’s back. Sinking back onto his cock, Chrollo controlled the new pace. He started out teasing, just tiny rolls of his hips and a rhythmic tightening of his muscles designed to drive Silva to the point of madness. Gradually, glacially, he went faster and faster until he was riding him in complete abandon. There was no keeping quiet and Silva found his quiet moans buried beneath the sound of Chrollo coming apart above him. His fingers ached to dig into that thin waist, lift him and hold him in place as he saw fit, but he resisted. The headboard behind his head took the brunt of his desire and he could feel the creaking in the wood as the pace increased even more. Within another couple minutes, the wood splintered in his grip and Silva settled for taking out his want on the sheets instead.

Silva thrust into every single bounce Chrollo gave and it wasn’t long before he could feel the telltale spasm that signaled Chrollo’s end. Leaning up onto an arm, Silva reached around Chrollo to stroke his weeping cock, teasing the head in time to his erratic pace. It only took a few seconds for it to be enough and have Chrollo coming down his hand. Silva fucked him through it, his powerful thighs letting him rock hard and fast into him to chase his own satisfaction.

Chrollo pulled off him with a wet sound that sounded lewd in the silence, the quiet only broken by their heavy breathing. He fell to the mattress in a boneless heap and curled into Silva’s side, humming contently. Silva wrapped an arm around him and took in the mess they had made of the room, the broken shelf lying in pieces across the floor and the dents in the walls. The headboard was its own lost cause and when Chrollo began to laugh against his neck, he could only join him.

“I’ll be sure to send the room repair bills to you,” Chrollo declared sometime later after the post-orgasmic haze had lifted and reality returned. He was still lounging in the ruined bed, the sheets only just covering his hips from view.

Grunting as he began dressing himself, Silva tried to ignore the dark eyes tracing up and down his body. “I thought you weren’t going to charge me for this.” The buttons of his dress shirt were simple to fasten in theory, but everything seemed that much more difficult when Chrollo was so obviously undressing him with his eyes.

Rolling onto his stomach, the sheet only just following, Chrollo grinned at him with a very satisfied smile. “I won’t charge you for the damage you do to me. The room on the other hand,” he mused, drumming his fingers on the bedspread under him. “Well, I don’t think the hotel appreciates getting well fucked without the benefits of being well-fucked.”

The vulgarity was a bit jarring coming from such a sweet face but Silva decided it fit him. He couldn’t resist moving over to the bed and tasting the last of the cherry still flavoring his lips. Chrollo pulled him in, his arms wrapping around broad shoulders and coaxing him back into bed. Before he knew it, Silva found his shirt unbuttoned, his pants unzipped by clever fingers. He glanced down at all of his hard work being undone before looking into mischievous eyes. They were nearly black with want.

“I need to leave,” Silva protested, though the strength was sorely lacking. Cool fingers slid up his chest and slipped the shirt from his shoulders, the fabric fluttering to the floor like his weakening resolve. He was hushed, his hair stroked and tangled in Chrollo’s hands.

“Not until I feel you’ve gotten your money’s worth.”

By the time Silva finally exited the room, his clothing haphazardly thrown on and his posture more relaxed than he’d known in a long while, the party below had long ended and the manhunt been moved to different waters.

He had left Chrollo asleep on the ruined bed, the frame broken and beyond any kind of hope for repair. Mind pleasantly quiet, Silva made his way down to the street and towards the airport to begin the long trip home. It wasn’t until he was digging for his wallet for his ticket that he found the card slipped so carefully into the money pocket, taking up the space that had previously been occupied by cash.

Already dreading the answer, Silva looked to the card questioningly. It wasn’t every day that he was robbed. The card was plain, a simple business card with a number and the name of an escort agency. The back however, was all the explanation he needed to know exactly what had happened.

_I look forward to further business— Chrollo Lucilfer_

Grinning now, Silva pocketed the card with a flourish. Illumi wasn’t wrong. He had definitely found him the perfect escort.

**Author's Note:**

> not really happy with this one but thats to be expected i guess. i hope you guys got something out of it at least! check me out on tumblr (terminallydepraved) and let me know how you liked it! until next time~


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